


Intruder

by Agib



Series: Febuwhump 2020 [5]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: But it's Mild, Home Invasion, Sad Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid doesn't confide in his family like he fucking should because they all care about him, Spencer Reid is Sleep Deprived, Team Dynamics, Whump, intruder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22571299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agib/pseuds/Agib
Summary: Spencer isn't acting himself. Everyone's worried - more so when they show up at his apartment.
Relationships: Spencer Reid & The BAU Team
Series: Febuwhump 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619311
Comments: 8
Kudos: 567





	Intruder

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning for home break-in's.
> 
> \----
> 
> On another note,
> 
> I'mhavinganallergicreactionandcan'tstopdamnpukingsomeonesendhelp
> 
> Caffeine? More like death juice. I didn't even know you could be allergic to caffeine and yet _here I aaaaaaam._

The team was supposed to have a three-day weekend. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday. Because who’s going to go out on a killing spree on those three days?

Apparently one in Arizona, because there were three people dead in three days, and the BAU’s supposed ‘three-day weekend’ ended after one blissful Sunday night of freedom. Ten in the morning on a Monday and JJ hated herself for having to call everyone in. By eleven – because, yeah there were lives at stake here – six of them were in the office, almost all of them nursing a coffee in one hand and a go-bag in the other.

Spencer was yet to be seen or heard from, even by the time JJ finished her extra brief rundown of what they had, nobody had heard a word. Hotch sighed informally, excusing himself to contact the missing agent.

The dial tone went for six rings before there was any answer.

“Reid?”

“Y – yeah, hey. What’s up?” He didn’t sound all there, but then again this was Spencer. Aaron wouldn’t have been surprised if the kid had been holed up with twenty books, not planning on leaving to do anything today. “Is there a case?” Surprisingly enough, there was no animosity in his tone like one would have expected. If Hotch had to place an emotion, he’d be leaning towards relief.

“Yes. Did you get JJ’s messages? We’ve got three dead in the middle of Arizona.” Sometimes Hotch wondered how hard it would be to force the bland stoniness in his every word to take a hike.

“I – uh no. No, I was – no, I didn’t.” Hotch frowned, ignoring the blatant backpedal Spencer just performed.

“Well how far off are you? Could you make wheels off in thirty?” Spencer said something, too quiet to make out over the background noise. It sounded like he was somewhere busy, in public. “Reid? I didn’t quite get that.” He covered one ear with his hand as if it were noise from his end that was buzzing over Spencer’s answer.

“Can I meet you there?” Spencer asked, sounding slightly meek.

“ _Meet us there_ – What? Reid, we’re flying out to Arizona.” Hotch held up a finger and turned his back when Rossi knocked on the doorframe to his office, a hurried looking JJ standing at his side.

“Hotch, it’ll take me like an hour by plane,” Spencer said sharply. “I’m in Las Vegas right now.” Hotch knew that meant he was visiting his Mother, and he also knew that was probably why he hadn’t answered JJ earlier.

“Okay,” he said stiffly, “we can debrief you when we land.” Rossi raised an eyebrow as Hotch tucked his phone away, obviously wanting to hear the story. “Wheel’s up in thirty,” Hotch said tiredly as they marched back into the open space. “Reid’s meeting us there,” he stated simply. Hotch was perfectly aware of how little the younger agent enjoyed sharing much about his personal life. Hell, the team probably still wouldn’t know anything about Spencer’s Mother or her condition if it weren’t for the case with The Fisher King. Spencer could barely tolerate people in his space, let alone his life.

“What, at the jet or in Arizona?” Morgan asked incredulously.

“Arizona,” Rossi interjected. “Lord knows why,” he gave a pointed glance in Hotch’s direction, who ignored it bluntly.

\----

The flight down was calm. They briefed themselves on the case, deliberately ignoring the sullen silence at points in the discussion that their youngest agent would typically jump in. It wasn’t entirely bad, or at least it didn’t pertain many overtly upsetting details if you discounted the fact that three people were dead, and nobody had caught whoever had been dumping the bodies in the middle of the desert.

As soon as they landed and the doors opened, the wet heat crept up on them. Sweat was already pooling by the time they had descended from the jet onto the runway. Prentiss and Morgan stifled a brief cuss-riddled complaint as the officers sent to take the team to wherever they needed to go stepped out of their vehicles.

Spencer was with them, holding a case report in one hand and giving a humble wave to his team with the other.

“Garcia sent me the files on the case, and I figured I’d get started working while you were on the jet,” he explained with a shrug.

“Way to jump the gun, pretty boy,” Morgan joked. His gaze lingered slightly on the bags taking shape under Spencer’s eyes but overlooked it as the kid casually rattled off the exact ground area of the desert where the bodies were being dumped.

Hotch divided out tasks to everyone, pairing them off and sending them on their way. The case wasn’t anything special, a typical unorganised unsub who happened to be making body drops roughly a month after the death of their victims.

The day wrapped before they could find any kind of link between the victims, but Garcia had promised a list of any overlap between the three people whose bodies had been found bright and early the next morning. Under the advice of the team, the officers had the nearest highway (and only liable access to the desert for the unsub to have taken) patrol doubled.

The hotel they had was smaller than usual, but they each had their own room which was typically where the comfortable line was drawn.

\----

_Spencer didn’t sleep._

_He used both the deadbolt and the chain._

_He didn’t bother to unholster his gun._

\----

Both Morgan, Hotch and Emily took note of the beginnings of dark, purple sleep deprivation rings beneath the agent’s eyes the next morning on their way to the station.

Luckily enough, no more bodies had been dumped overnight, severing the pattern of one each night for the past three days. And to make matters better, Garcia had found several locations which could potentially bring them to the unsub based on his victim patterns.

Eventually, the team found themselves outside of a mall, the unsub with a gun and a hostage who slipped into the background after only several minutes of talking the man down. Monetary status had been the motivator, and the unsub had previously acted out in anger after his stressor was revealed to be a dire financial situation made worse by job termination.

Suffice to say, Morgan had the guy pinned against his vehicle after less than ten minutes. It only took two more for the man to be planted in the back of the local officer’s cruiser in handcuffs.

\----

“So, is Boy Wonder joining you, or is he staying behind in the city that never sleeps for a presumably wild time?” Morgan laughed, dumping his go-bag onto the floor and slouching himself comfortably in the jet’s best seat. Garcia had a take-out container of noodles in her hand and waved as the rest of the team trailed past the video call, looking utterly worn out and ready to come home.

“You can answer that, kid,” Morgan grinned, tilting his phone towards Spencer who was hunched over one of the benches, reading something on his phone.

“Hi Penelope,” he answered without looking up. “I’m present, you’re welcome” he finished dryly. Garcia’s shrill but encouraging laugh echoed through the jet and managed to bring a few tired smiles out before take-off.

Spencer looked like he was struggling to stay awake and upright the entirety of the flight, and despite numerous concerned glances from almost everyone on the plane, he stayed focused on his phone until landing.

Everyone was of the same mindset once they got back to headquarters, say a quick goodnight to everyone and attempt to make the most of the rest of the ‘time off’ they had. Spencer was glad everyone cleared out of the building and made their way home for the night; it gave him the chance to convince Hotch to let him finish the case’s paperwork then and there in order to secure a few personal days.

_Can’t go home. Need a new apartment. Not safe, never safe._

\----

The team could make do without Spencer for three days, but it didn’t mean they had to enjoy it. The kid was a necessity in keeping the work and play balance equal. Without Spencer there to bring out Derek’s more distracted side, the man was too focused, which left Penelope bored out of her mind, meaning the whole social system began to collapse as too much paperwork got done purely to avoid boredom.

But paperwork being blown through in one big load meant the next day could be an early finish. With everyone caught up on sleep and bored out of their minds, there was only one solution, and the team wasn’t about to leave Spencer out of a night on the town.

What they found when they showed up on his floor of the apartment complex, he lived in was however, less than ideal.

“Hotch, did he mention why he needed the personal days?” JJ asked slowly when they found themselves staring at bright yellow crime scene tape on his doorstep.

“No, and I didn’t ask either,” the older agent said almost regretfully. “Someone go ask that security guy out front what happened here,” he suggested, worry evident on his face as clearly as everyone else on the team. Penelope and JJ skittered off together to do just that.

“Guys,” Emily said after a quiet moment of observation. He hand was resting against something on the wall a few feet down from the door. It was the wall that should be roughly where Spencer’s kitchen should be, if any of them remembered correctly.

“Prentiss is that…” Rossi trailed off, unsure even as Emily moved her hand out of the way.

“A bullet hole? Yeah, I think it is,” she finished.

\----

_It was late. Really damn late, almost to the point where Spencer would probably call it early the next morning. The team’s latest case had been tedious to say the least, but they had been promised a three-day weekend, so nobody was complaining._

_He shouldered through the rickety front gate of the apartment complex, ignoring the man that slipped in through the gate after him. Spencer didn’t know everyone who lived on every floor, the guy probably forgot his key card and the agent really couldn’t be bothered to make a fuss about anything tonight. He needed to sleep._

_The man got off on the floor beneath him, which explained why Spencer didn’t recognise him. So, it strayed from his mind as something inconsequential would._

_He dropped his bag immediately, kicking off his shoes, safely tucking his gun away in its case at the back of the overstocked bookshelf. Spencer groaned, rubbing his eyes blearily with one fist and throwing his jacket aside with the other._

_He didn’t hear every doorknob in the hallway outside being turned twenty minutes later, including his own. He didn’t hear the easily overlooked creak of his front door, or the practically silent thumps of somebody else’s heart._

“No, don’t mess around with me right now. Spence, where are you? What’s going on?” Rossi was actively not taking part in the phone call, stood to the side with Hotch and pretending to examine the bullet hole. Emily was hovering, trying to snatch the phone out of Derek’s hands every few seconds.

“Why the hell are you looking for _motels_ of all things right now? What happened to your apartment?” Derek wasn’t one to yell at Spencer, nobody on the team was, but the kid’s apartment was covered in crime scene tape, nobody had seen him in almost three days and he had fucked off to Las Vegas without telling anyone not even a week prior – Derek was worried, and rightfully so.

_“Well, why don’t you tell me, Morgan? Because apparently you’re the one at my apartment right now!”_ Emily could hear Spencer yelling right back. She needed to situation diffuse, and someone had to get Penelope back up here to calm Derek down again.

“Spencer, Spence,” she said, swatting at Derek when he made a grab for the phone after she managed to swipe it. “We’re really worried about you. Please let us help, whatever’s going on I’m sure it –”

_“Em, I’m fine. Honestly. I just need a break. I’ll see you all at work tomorrow, okay?”_ Emily pushed at Derek’s chest when his incessant ‘what’s he saying’ grew too loud. _“Just don’t stress about it. Apartment’s get broken into all the time.”_ She opened her mouth to respond before the line clicked off, dead. She swore quietly, looking up and meeting Hotch’s eyes.

“He said he’d see us all tomorrow, at work,” she repeated. Hotch nodded, Derek sighed, rubbing at his forehead.

All Penelope and JJ could relay was what they’d already worked out.

Just a break in. Nothing special.

\----

When Spencer walked back into the bullpen, everyone could see the dark rings of sleep deprivation from a mile away.

He was surprised to note the fact that he wasn’t immediately flooded, in fact everyone acted as per usual. Aside from Derek convincing him to do a coffee-run for the team, nothing was out of the ordinary.

“So,” the older agent began after they had placed the orders for their team. “A motel, huh?” Spencer rolled his eyes; he couldn’t help it.

“Yeah,” he said stiffly. Derek was watching him, clearly waiting for an explanation. “It was just a break in, God. They didn’t even manage to take anything. Can we drop it?”

Derek shrugged, like it was Spencer’s choice to end the discussion, and it annoyed him to no-end. The genius snatched up his coffee, tapped his foot impatiently and stared right back at the other agent who was still regarding him carefully.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, after a moment of Spencer’s unwavering glare.

The younger man inhaled once, exhaled on an exaggerated sigh and softened his expression slightly.

“What do you want me to say, Morgan?” Derek held back a twitch at the use of his last name in a non-work setting. He took a slow sip of his own coffee, picking up the tray of their teammate’s in one hand.

Despite an unspoken rule to not profile each other, he was smart enough to know what made his co-worker tick.

“You want me to say I didn’t even have my gun on me?” Spencer grit, his hands white knuckling the coffee cup. “Do you want me to tell you all about how he could’ve shot me if he had actually been trying to?”

He almost hated how quickly Spencer fractured under the pressure of his silence. The kid clearly hadn’t slept in _days_. He was usually sharper than this.

“Kid –”

“What, Derek – do you want me to tell you all about how we deal with shit worse than break-in’s on a day to day basis and yet a _stupid_ , amateur, home intruder has managed to make _me_ feel like I can’t ever move back into my own apartment?”

_Their eyes meet, and it was so painfully clear to Spencer that this guy – whoever he was – didn’t expect anyone to be home. He had been aiming to loot an unlocked apartment and nothing else._

_Spencer profiled the man in three seconds flat, and he still doesn’t react in time for the burst of fear that streams out of the man as he hurtles his way past Spencer – a currently unarmed FBI agent. His side crushes into the doorway, and he opens his mouth to yell and probably move to take chase, but the man is already turning and firing a wild, warning shot to evoke fear. And Spencer knows that’s all it was meant to be._

_A warning. Something to stop him from running after the guy._

_But there’s a smoking hole in the wall three inches to the left of his skull, and that could’ve ended so horribly wrong that it rings inside his head as clear as the tinnitus from the gunshot does._

_He’s an FBI agent, who was almost murdered by accident in his own apartment by a flighty, sloppy burglar, and all he has to show for it is a buzzing left ear and a bruise the size of a fist smeared across his upper-arm from the shove._

“Spencer. Hey – look at me,” Derek says harshly, one hand pressing down on Spencer’s shoulder, right above the bruise. He waited until he had the glassy look in the kid’s eyes cleared and had forced the attention to be there. “What we do as our job doesn’t matter one bit. Things can still scare us, and they do. We all know that.”

“Not like me,” Spencer said quietly. “You said you were afraid of the dark as a kid once,” he pointed out. “Derek, I _still am_. I didn’t grow out of that.” He took a shaky breath, running his spindly fingers over the lid of his cup anxiously. “I’m just – we’re just different people. Something like this wouldn’t happen to someone like you.”

“You’re barely twenty-six, kid. There’s still time to ‘out-grow’ things. You also over-analyse everything, which is a talent, sure. But it doesn’t help with overthinking and hyper focusing on things like this.” He squeezed gently, letting his hand drop from the younger man’s shoulder. “I might not know as much as you, but I do know that if you aren’t terrified by what we deal with on bad cases, the fear’s going to present itself somewhere else.”

Spencer laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“The hyper focusing isn’t helping much with this. I can’t live in that apartment anymore, he – he just came in through the gate like anyone else could have.” Derek looked as if he were to offer a counter to that point, but Spencer chimed in faster. “How did you and the rest of the team get to my apartment last night? Did you even need a key-card? Did security just buzz you in as soon as you mentioned a random apartment number?”

Derek closed his mouth. He hated to admit it, but Spencer was right. His apartment complex barely had any security, and none of them had needed a key-card because the gate hadn’t even clicked shut after the last person entered the building. They just walked right in.

“Do you know how many properties I own?” Derek asked. Spencer blanched, clearly not expecting the agent’s next argument. “Stop using all your personal days to find a new place. Take your time, crash at one of my houses that isn’t mid-construction right now, and _talk to us_ next time something like this is getting to you.”

Spencer paused, then nodded once with a small, appreciative smile lingering on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Give @spidersonangst @febufluff-whump (on Tumblr) all the credit, the only reason this is happening this month is because of them!


End file.
